Warning: This story contains adult language, graphic violence, attempted
rape, attempted suicide, and sexually explicit themes. Reader's discretion
is advised.
Rating - R.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Apollonia, Giselle, Checkers, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine.
Chapter 6: Dreams and Nightmares
Stacking crates in the back of a wagon, Jack kept busy performing his daily duties at the warehouse. His duties and obligations were many, but today his responsibilities were few. His boss had already given out tasks for everyone and being that Jack had always finished his, he was then ordered load up a wagon with crates headed for Brooklyn.
Passing through rows of miscellaneous boxes and items, Jack looked on thinking to himself about his life and the decisions he made. At this point, he was content for the most part. He had an apartment on the Lower East Side, he had a few dollars saved, and tons of friends to spend his time with. So far, life was satisfying, more or less, but there was still something missing.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a red object. It was worn but still intact. It was the red bandana he used to wear around his neck during his years as a newsie. He remembered how everyone in New York, from newsies of the surrounding boroughs to the sweatshop kids to the kids who worked in the city factories, cheered him on as he went up to the old, regal presence of Pulitzer and won their battle. His name became synonymous with courage. But names pass into history and history passes into legend. Whether he liked it or not, the name Jack Kelly would still inspire bravery and nerve. That was the true spirit of a New Yorker. He looked back fondly on his memories. The life he led as a newsie almost seemed like someone else's life. He continued to be the dashing young man with plenty of friends and connections, but there was still a void that darkened his existence.
He looked over at a wagon with giant wagon wheels in the back. Its destination was definitely west. The bandana he held in his hand also brought back his recollection of his desire to go to Santa Fe. He still dreamt of owning his own ranch and living under the desert sky. A big beautiful house with horses and other livestock meandering on the land as he got a breathtaking view of the saw-toothed mountain range behind his home. Lying underneath the stars, inhaling the midnight air, and dreaming silently were still fantasies that he yearned to become real. He knew that this dream would soon come to fruition. When exactly was the question.
He kept looking at the richly colored bandana, wrapping it across his fingers, wondering when he will make the decision to live out one of his ultimate fantasies. He always kept it with him. It was a sort of security blanket for him. Although a childish thing to do, Jack in many ways was a kid at heart.
"Hey, Kelly! Could ya gimme a hand ovah here, please?" Yelled one of his co- workers. Breaking his concentration, he signaled to him that he would be there shortly. Looking back at his prized bandana, he faintly smiled to himself, stuffed the bandana in his back pocket, and proceeded to assist his partner.
~
Various persons coursed through the avenues of New York City as a new day presented itself. Walking, talking, running errands, and conducting business among other things, were nothing new since the same activities were performed on a daily basis.
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Mayor accused of racetrack betting! Associates deny everything!"
People passing by and buying newspapers from newsies were certainly normal. But for a newsie to stand near a newspaper stand hawking the headlines was not a good thing. As soon as Checkers exchanged his paper for a penny, the newspaper stand owner saw him.
"Get outta here you little brat! Don't evah come here sellin' your papes. This is my newspaper stand and I'm not gonna have ya takin' business away from me. Ya hear me?"
Without hesitation, Checkers ran as fast as he could before the police could come looking for him. He was almost certain that the bulls would remember him for accosting one of their own months back. He didn't need someone calling the police on him and dragging him away to the dreaded House of Refuge. He began screaming the headlines and selling several more of his papers. He then walked over to three of his friends that he saw standing on a corner messing around.
"Fellas! Whatta ya hear? Whatta ya say?"
He was met with three mildly disgruntled faces. Millionaire, an orphaned newsie from a well-to-do background, acknowledged him first. The other two, Short Round and Short Stack, were brothers. All groaned as Checkers approached them.
"Hey, what's with all da long faces?"
"Well, none of us are sellin' our papes as well as before 'cause of all of da newsstands poppin' up. We have been chased off by those bums every time we come by." Said Millionaire.
"Yeah, we hafta start lookin' for udda places ta sell our papes before dey run us outta business. We are just barely makin' it as it is." Stated Short Stack. Checkers just looked at them disappointed.
"Hey, I got an idea. Why don't we go catch a flicker. I got five cents on me. How about you guys?" Asked Short Round. Between the three, they had just enough money to catch a movie.
"Great let's go have ourselves some fun. We can carry da banner later!" Exclaimed Millionaire.
A loud bang was heard in the distance. The gang looked up in surprise. All of a sudden people stopped and saw smoke rising in the distance. "What was that?" Asked a nearby gentleman. Another loud boom was made and this time it was even more explosive.
People began screaming and running as debris started to rain from the sky. Coal, metal objects, and burning pieces of brick and wood poured from the heavens as people ran for cover. Women quickly grabbed their children and ran into the nearest place of business. Carriage drivers had trouble keeping their horses in check as the streets were swarming with frightened individuals. Some people ordered the drivers to take them out of the area immediately. Others threw drivers out of their carriages and took over, trying to get as many people into them and dodge the crowd.
"What da hell is goin' on ovah there?" Said Checkers, totally confused by the blast which was causing the chaos. Whistles were being blown by the cops as they were trying to calm down the otherwise hysterical crowd. Police tried to evacuate the area as quickly as possible as they saw dozens of pedestrians overcrowding a trolley.
The young boys saw many of their fellow newsies running through the boulevards and tried to catch their attention. "Hey, fellas! Ovah here! Ovah here!" Yelled Checkers. About six or seven boys came sprinting up to him.
"Isn't this crazy!? It's like Judgment Day out here!"
"We gotta get outta here befor' somethin' happens to all of us. Let's go!" Cried Short Stack. All of the young brood hastily made their way back to the Lodging House for safety.
Hundreds of people were running and screaming as they were trying to make their ways to a safe place of protection. Several newsies watch in wonderment as scores of people were rushing in and away from the pandemonium. Scores of fire trucks began speeding up and down the roads headed for the site of disaster. The loud noises of the trucks did not help diffuse the chaos and panic that gripped the city's citizens. Numerous newsies gathered around at street corners trying to figure out what the cause was.
"What is going on? What's happening?" Asked a girl newsie. Checkers was just as thunderstruck as she. She was unaccustomed to seeing such tragedy. Some of the newsies tried to calm her down in the midst of the commotion.
The kids then noticed more smoke coming from a few blocks from where they were standing. They were not sure of what was on fire, but they knew that the damage was bad. The smell of the burning building could be inhaled easily from where they stood.
Within the hour, the fear and terror that engulfed that section of the city started to spread. The police began trying to calm everyone down and inform them to seek shelter immediately. Due to the city being filled with immigrants, most of whom could not speak English, the cops had a hellish time trying to explain anything to them. Some were stricken with fear while others tried to go to the source of the turmoil, not taking heed that the bulls were trying to inform them that it was too dangerous.
~
The order of the day was business as usual for the two young ladies as they served drinks and posted orders for incoming books. Shuffling through gobs of paperwork, Apollonia was rather pleased by the incoming monies that her business was bringing. Giselle refilled the containers with coffee grains while humming a tune.
"You seem quite content today. Is there something, or shall I say, someone you are thinking about?"
"Why do you ask, cherie?" Giselle asked coyly.
"Because you are never this cheerful. I haven't seen you this happy since that photographer came in here and offered to take your picture in his studio free of charge. He said that he needed a model."
"If I remember, chere, he asked both of us to model, and in French lingerie, no doubt. But when you told him that you were married to one of the most feared former newsies of New York, he practically dirtied his underpants!"
They laughed heartily at the memory. "Well, at least he still offered a free photo session to the both of us, as long as I didn't tell Spot about his previous proposition."
"He was cute, yes, but ..."
"I know, Giselle, too young."
"No, too short." Apollonia shook her head. "There's always a 'but' with you."
"Not true, chere. If he has a cute butt, then he may have a chance with moi." Both burst out laughing. Giselle was never this open about men in the past. One could mistake her for being a "professional virgin." And she was, more or less she, but she did have a lighter side to her when it came to the opposite sex. Their laughter was cut short by the entrance of a brawny young man who came bursting into her place.
"May I help you?" She asked, slightly confused.
"Are you Apollonia Conlon, wife of J. P. Conlon?"
"Yes." She answered as she looked at the young man, who was sweating profusely and had apparently run all the way from his previous station. "What's wrong?"
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Apollonia, Giselle, Checkers, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine.
Chapter 6: Dreams and Nightmares
Stacking crates in the back of a wagon, Jack kept busy performing his daily duties at the warehouse. His duties and obligations were many, but today his responsibilities were few. His boss had already given out tasks for everyone and being that Jack had always finished his, he was then ordered load up a wagon with crates headed for Brooklyn.
Passing through rows of miscellaneous boxes and items, Jack looked on thinking to himself about his life and the decisions he made. At this point, he was content for the most part. He had an apartment on the Lower East Side, he had a few dollars saved, and tons of friends to spend his time with. So far, life was satisfying, more or less, but there was still something missing.
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a red object. It was worn but still intact. It was the red bandana he used to wear around his neck during his years as a newsie. He remembered how everyone in New York, from newsies of the surrounding boroughs to the sweatshop kids to the kids who worked in the city factories, cheered him on as he went up to the old, regal presence of Pulitzer and won their battle. His name became synonymous with courage. But names pass into history and history passes into legend. Whether he liked it or not, the name Jack Kelly would still inspire bravery and nerve. That was the true spirit of a New Yorker. He looked back fondly on his memories. The life he led as a newsie almost seemed like someone else's life. He continued to be the dashing young man with plenty of friends and connections, but there was still a void that darkened his existence.
He looked over at a wagon with giant wagon wheels in the back. Its destination was definitely west. The bandana he held in his hand also brought back his recollection of his desire to go to Santa Fe. He still dreamt of owning his own ranch and living under the desert sky. A big beautiful house with horses and other livestock meandering on the land as he got a breathtaking view of the saw-toothed mountain range behind his home. Lying underneath the stars, inhaling the midnight air, and dreaming silently were still fantasies that he yearned to become real. He knew that this dream would soon come to fruition. When exactly was the question.
He kept looking at the richly colored bandana, wrapping it across his fingers, wondering when he will make the decision to live out one of his ultimate fantasies. He always kept it with him. It was a sort of security blanket for him. Although a childish thing to do, Jack in many ways was a kid at heart.
"Hey, Kelly! Could ya gimme a hand ovah here, please?" Yelled one of his co- workers. Breaking his concentration, he signaled to him that he would be there shortly. Looking back at his prized bandana, he faintly smiled to himself, stuffed the bandana in his back pocket, and proceeded to assist his partner.
~
Various persons coursed through the avenues of New York City as a new day presented itself. Walking, talking, running errands, and conducting business among other things, were nothing new since the same activities were performed on a daily basis.
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Mayor accused of racetrack betting! Associates deny everything!"
People passing by and buying newspapers from newsies were certainly normal. But for a newsie to stand near a newspaper stand hawking the headlines was not a good thing. As soon as Checkers exchanged his paper for a penny, the newspaper stand owner saw him.
"Get outta here you little brat! Don't evah come here sellin' your papes. This is my newspaper stand and I'm not gonna have ya takin' business away from me. Ya hear me?"
Without hesitation, Checkers ran as fast as he could before the police could come looking for him. He was almost certain that the bulls would remember him for accosting one of their own months back. He didn't need someone calling the police on him and dragging him away to the dreaded House of Refuge. He began screaming the headlines and selling several more of his papers. He then walked over to three of his friends that he saw standing on a corner messing around.
"Fellas! Whatta ya hear? Whatta ya say?"
He was met with three mildly disgruntled faces. Millionaire, an orphaned newsie from a well-to-do background, acknowledged him first. The other two, Short Round and Short Stack, were brothers. All groaned as Checkers approached them.
"Hey, what's with all da long faces?"
"Well, none of us are sellin' our papes as well as before 'cause of all of da newsstands poppin' up. We have been chased off by those bums every time we come by." Said Millionaire.
"Yeah, we hafta start lookin' for udda places ta sell our papes before dey run us outta business. We are just barely makin' it as it is." Stated Short Stack. Checkers just looked at them disappointed.
"Hey, I got an idea. Why don't we go catch a flicker. I got five cents on me. How about you guys?" Asked Short Round. Between the three, they had just enough money to catch a movie.
"Great let's go have ourselves some fun. We can carry da banner later!" Exclaimed Millionaire.
A loud bang was heard in the distance. The gang looked up in surprise. All of a sudden people stopped and saw smoke rising in the distance. "What was that?" Asked a nearby gentleman. Another loud boom was made and this time it was even more explosive.
People began screaming and running as debris started to rain from the sky. Coal, metal objects, and burning pieces of brick and wood poured from the heavens as people ran for cover. Women quickly grabbed their children and ran into the nearest place of business. Carriage drivers had trouble keeping their horses in check as the streets were swarming with frightened individuals. Some people ordered the drivers to take them out of the area immediately. Others threw drivers out of their carriages and took over, trying to get as many people into them and dodge the crowd.
"What da hell is goin' on ovah there?" Said Checkers, totally confused by the blast which was causing the chaos. Whistles were being blown by the cops as they were trying to calm down the otherwise hysterical crowd. Police tried to evacuate the area as quickly as possible as they saw dozens of pedestrians overcrowding a trolley.
The young boys saw many of their fellow newsies running through the boulevards and tried to catch their attention. "Hey, fellas! Ovah here! Ovah here!" Yelled Checkers. About six or seven boys came sprinting up to him.
"Isn't this crazy!? It's like Judgment Day out here!"
"We gotta get outta here befor' somethin' happens to all of us. Let's go!" Cried Short Stack. All of the young brood hastily made their way back to the Lodging House for safety.
Hundreds of people were running and screaming as they were trying to make their ways to a safe place of protection. Several newsies watch in wonderment as scores of people were rushing in and away from the pandemonium. Scores of fire trucks began speeding up and down the roads headed for the site of disaster. The loud noises of the trucks did not help diffuse the chaos and panic that gripped the city's citizens. Numerous newsies gathered around at street corners trying to figure out what the cause was.
"What is going on? What's happening?" Asked a girl newsie. Checkers was just as thunderstruck as she. She was unaccustomed to seeing such tragedy. Some of the newsies tried to calm her down in the midst of the commotion.
The kids then noticed more smoke coming from a few blocks from where they were standing. They were not sure of what was on fire, but they knew that the damage was bad. The smell of the burning building could be inhaled easily from where they stood.
Within the hour, the fear and terror that engulfed that section of the city started to spread. The police began trying to calm everyone down and inform them to seek shelter immediately. Due to the city being filled with immigrants, most of whom could not speak English, the cops had a hellish time trying to explain anything to them. Some were stricken with fear while others tried to go to the source of the turmoil, not taking heed that the bulls were trying to inform them that it was too dangerous.
~
The order of the day was business as usual for the two young ladies as they served drinks and posted orders for incoming books. Shuffling through gobs of paperwork, Apollonia was rather pleased by the incoming monies that her business was bringing. Giselle refilled the containers with coffee grains while humming a tune.
"You seem quite content today. Is there something, or shall I say, someone you are thinking about?"
"Why do you ask, cherie?" Giselle asked coyly.
"Because you are never this cheerful. I haven't seen you this happy since that photographer came in here and offered to take your picture in his studio free of charge. He said that he needed a model."
"If I remember, chere, he asked both of us to model, and in French lingerie, no doubt. But when you told him that you were married to one of the most feared former newsies of New York, he practically dirtied his underpants!"
They laughed heartily at the memory. "Well, at least he still offered a free photo session to the both of us, as long as I didn't tell Spot about his previous proposition."
"He was cute, yes, but ..."
"I know, Giselle, too young."
"No, too short." Apollonia shook her head. "There's always a 'but' with you."
"Not true, chere. If he has a cute butt, then he may have a chance with moi." Both burst out laughing. Giselle was never this open about men in the past. One could mistake her for being a "professional virgin." And she was, more or less she, but she did have a lighter side to her when it came to the opposite sex. Their laughter was cut short by the entrance of a brawny young man who came bursting into her place.
"May I help you?" She asked, slightly confused.
"Are you Apollonia Conlon, wife of J. P. Conlon?"
"Yes." She answered as she looked at the young man, who was sweating profusely and had apparently run all the way from his previous station. "What's wrong?"
